


Recall How We Came to Be In This Place

by Seon



Series: Obsession [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone lives, F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Magic, Magic-Users, Misgendering, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Soft Chara, Violence against Children, character tags will begin to make sense over time, more characters as plot demands, some malarkey about nature of souls, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7661701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seon/pseuds/Seon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The witch hunts, an institution long since forgotten, have begun all over again. Those few humans left with magic in their blood face suspicion wherever they go. Two red eyed children are born into a world that now hates them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Regretful Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How... how did we get here? Why do these ruins seem so familiar? Why do I feel such sorrow in my chest? 
> 
> _Here,_ the voice replied. _Let us start, from the beginning..._

England, 201X.

Chara was on the run ever since they were born.

Looking up their records (filed under a false name that the child themself would not recognize) would reveal that they were born in 200X, Michigan, at a town whose name is not pertinent to this story but famous for its gentle lakes and art. Digging deeper would also reveal that, shortly after their birth, the child and the mother was basically torn away from the hospital by their haggard father (a known local thug on neighborhood watch list). Digging even deeper would find some reference to the fact that their apartment was broken into by unknown individuals who fled the scene as soon as police were called in for suspicious activity. The family, however, were nowhere to be found. Police investigation revealed nothing and the whole affair was forgotten very soon against the much more interesting news involving a haunted apartment and a flesh-eating witch masquerading as a nursing student at a local college.

Chara themself had no idea what had scared their parents so badly. The child always felt, however, as if it was their own fault somehow. The way that their parents looked at them with wary eyes and forbade them from making too many friends or speaking out loud in public too much, or even making eye contact with too many people, simply served to reinforce that opinion.

Even before they were really fully aware (Chara did not know for sure what was the first thing they remembered. It was all kind of hazy—but they could remember when they had to move from USA to Great Britain. The parents were grim faced and the little tramp boat carrying miserable little possessions they used to get to the coast of England did nothing to protect from the cold), Chara was always moving. They were currently living here, however, in Ebottstown, England, in a cottage at a countryside that they still had no idea how their parents afforded. Probably through drug dealing or something.

The parents did not allow the child to attend school or play with other children, claiming that it was useless, and would be dangerous anyways. Dangerous to whom, they never explained, but this lifestyle meant that the child simply spent most of their time staring out the window wistfully at other children playing in the streets, reading books (their parents always seemed to carry them with them, no matter how many times they moved to ‘run’ away from whatever it was chasing them) or watching television.

Children’s cartoons or movies didn’t really interest Chara. There were certain exceptions of course, but they liked devouring documentaries and news of the world outside. After all, closed off as they were from the outside world, news and the television were the only way for them to learn what was going on. It was here they learned about the phenomenon taking the world by a storm.

Magic.

Thaumaturgy, psionics, supernatural abilities, call it whatever you wished. Magical phenomenon, long thought extinguished by successful witch-hunts of the past few centuries, were happening again. Haunted houses were kidnapping victims and draining their life force! An old lady living in the woods by herself suddenly turned out to be a witch and started kidnapping little children! Group of tradesmen suddenly realized they were, quote unquote, magic, and formed some mix of an apocalyptic death cult and a sporting club almost overnight before going on a magic-induced rampage in Philadelphia. People were going on impromptu witch hunts all over the world, causing massive casualties! The city of New York banned all psychic readings and magic shows!

Nobody had any explanation for these series of inexplicable events, and media was latching onto every new and interesting bits of renascent supernatural phenomenon of the world. Even the so called “experts,” the ‘witch-hunters’ and investigators of the supernatural phenomenon, seemed at a loss at what to do. “We can only hope,” Dr. Roosevelt, apparently some expert on thaumaturgic and psionic history, said. “That this mysterious occurrences pass quickly and that normalcy is restored… or at least that the people with the newfound abilities learn to use it responsibly… I don’t think any of us need to be reminded of that unfortunate incident in Transylvania…” and so forth.

It was all pretty fascinating stuff, Chara thought. After all, if people can somehow just awaken one morning to have inexplicable power, then they can do that too, right?

The other children outside the window appeared to agree, for Chara began to notice a change in their behavior soon. Games of tag soon changed into games of Witches and Hunters, with the Nerf-gun toting “hunters” chasing and hunting the hat-wearing and stick carrying “witches” around the neighborhood. The child desperately wanted to join them, but knew such behavior would result in severe punishment from their parents if they ever figured it out. Besides, they wanted to be a hunter, and they didn’t have any Nerf guns.

So Chara decided to do the next best thing and play make-believe indoors. They found some kind of jacket belonging to their father in the closet and wore it when both of their parents were outside doing some ‘business’ (Chara still had no idea what job they actually did). The sleeves were too long for sure, trailing all the way down to the floor. Rolling it up seemed to do nothing (It just kept on slipping and rolling back down towards the floor again). The end of the coat reached the floor too and dragged on the floor. They used some length of string to tie the coat down at the waist, to make it look more like a longcoat they always imagined proper witch hunters wore. Their parents did not buy them a toy gun, so they went outside in their new witch-hunting garb to the backyard in hopes of finding a pistol-shaped stick to serve as their primary weapon. They could find a kitchen knife to serve as their secondary later.

“Why hello there,” a voice startled them as soon as they cautiously opened the patio door. They looked up towards the source of the voice and saw a sharply dressed young man in a fedora and a permanent smile affixed to his face beaming down on the child from the roof of their house. “You come here often?” he said.

“I live here.”

“I should’ve guessed.”

“You are on my roof.”

The man looked around and feigned surprise. “Oh, so I am. How rude of me,” he said, making no movement to get off the roof. Instead, he pulled out a small tablet from his pocket and started to thumb through the screen.

“Are you here to spy on me?” Chara demanded.

“Nope.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Uhh… that would be a no?” the smiling man said, swinging his legs in a sequence because why would you not? Priorities and manners for people who liked hanging out on somebody else’s roof tended to be strange.

“Are you a mage?” the child asked.

“Yup.”

“Oh, okay.”

There was a long moment of silence as if a giant invisible white elephant walked into the backyard. Chara honestly did not know how to react to the man’s utter honesty. The man’s perpetual smile did not falter for a single moment. “So, I guess from the garbs,” the Smiling Man said in an amused tone of voice. “That you are a witch hunter? Are you going to hunt me?” The man giggled.

Chara felt joy flutter in their heart. Screw playing with children, they had the real thing in front of them! A real mage! Chara coughed and put on the best impression of a sheriff that they could make from those western American documentaries (they always imagined real witch hunters spoke like that). “Sure am, villain!” they shouted. They realized that they didn’t have any weapon that they could pull out to threaten the man with.

“Oooooh, I’m quivering,” the Smiling Man said mockingly, swaying from side to side. “The world’s most adorable witch hunter wants to burn me at the stakes! Tell my children that I love them!” he laughed. “Nah, but seriously, getting chased again would really be a bother. Could we not? I could bribe you.”

“Hah!” Chara said, scoffing theatrically. “Your attempt at corrupting this instrument of justice is for naught, villain, for I, Cha-“

“I can offer you a box of chocolate and a book on magic.”

Well damn, that really was a good offer. Chara looked around to make sure nobody was actually listening. “What kind of chocolate?”

“Magical chocolates.”

“That’s not a really good description. Would it, what, turn me purple or something?”

“What? No, it just doesn’t make you fat, because magic. I suppose I could make one that turns you purple if you-“

“I’ll just take the normal magic chocolate thank you very much,” the child said hastily, forgetting everything they learned in TV, parents, and common sense about not accepting candies from mysterious smiling strangers. “What’s this about books on magic?”

The Smiling Man tilted their head quizzically. “Why, it’s a book on magic, of course. Has all the spells and incantations that a young child such as yourself may need to learn, along with pretty little diagrams and illustrations to help children really get into the spirit of things. I’m sure you will love it.”

Chara didn’t know how mages, oppressed now for years, even acquired a printing press to make child-friendly introductory magic books. “I’m not magic though,” the child said.

“Oh yes, you are,” the smiling man’s blue eyes glinted for a moment.

“I… I am?”

“Of course you are!” the Smiling Man said jovially. “A very powerful one at that. I can sense it glowing from here. You shine like the sun, little kid.”

“I… I glow?” the child stammered, looking at their own arm in a panic. They didn’t notice anything glowing. They frowned. “You are pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Only I can see you glow. I got magic eyes. I can teach you magic if you want, little hunter, on the condition you never tell your parents about me, your secret friendly neighborhood mage, and that you never let your parents learn that you are magical!” the Smiling Man beamed, spreading his arms wide and laughing.

“But I don’t want to be magic!” Chara protested. “I want to be a hunter!”

“Ah, but you can use your magic to hunt other mages, no?” the Smiling Man winked. “I’ve heard that Dr. Roosevelt is recruiting some natural born mages to train them to hunt other mages! After all, everyone should strive to pay off their debts to society somehow, right? And we mages,” he chuckled. “Have been the naughtiest of all criminals in history.” Chara caught the mage rolling his eyes at the last statement.

Chara thought about this for a moment. “Okay,” they said. “I think I can accept your offer.” They didn’t really think about the Smiling Man’s strange request to never tell their parents about his presence. After all, they were used to their parents being suspicious of everyone. They overheard them talking about how the newsboy were probably spying on them a few days ago.

The Smiling Man’s smile grew impossibly wide and jumped down from the roof, landing softly in front of the child. He shook their hand rapidly as he nodded his approval. “Oh, you won’t regret this, kid,” he said.

But they did.

They both regretted that evening so much in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who the hell is Chara?
> 
>  
> 
> _Hush now, child. I'm the one talking now._
> 
>  
> 
> ..............................................
> 
> OOC: Please feel free to comment me if you see any errors... or if you think certain tags should be added. This is, unfortunately, my first serious fanfiction on this website.
> 
> With apologies to Borges, Fallen London, and the Umineko series from which I took most of the inspiration from.


	2. a small lesson on history

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Seven figures sit around a map of a mountain. Voices in Latin, French, English, Spanish, Chinese, and many more talk among themselves as archmages discuss their greatest creation yet-a prison inside which they seek to trap the hounds of hell, the demons, and the fey creatures that no longer belongs upon this earth. They are no gods, however, and no prison is perfect._

“First thing we’ll learn is magical lore!” the Smiling Man said from atop the rooftop. He appeared to have added some cloudy glasses and a bow tie to his usual outfit today—a bow tie and cloudy glasses. Chara, on the other hand, was in their normal clothes, having discarded their clumsy witch hunter outfit. Beside him was a basket of treats: the promised ‘magical’ chocolates. Chara’s mouth watered at the thought of biting into the candy bars (given by, once again, a person who was by all accounts a complete stranger who liked sitting on someone else’s home).

“Why are you wearing a bow tie and glasses?” Chara asked. It was a valid question. Only old people wore bow ties, and the man did not look a day over thirty. This was not even mentioning his frustrating habit of wearing silly hats. Fedoras? Really? Who even wore them anymore?The Smiling Man’s smiley façade broke for a second as his expression froze. “I dunnow,” he said. “My history professors wore them in college, and now I can’t give history lessons without these damnable things. Isn't it like a bloody uniform or something?” 

He absent-mindedly grabbed a candy bar from the basket and threw it at Chara. “That’s one for being curious, but please don’t ask about my outfits from now on,” Chara smiled and nodded as they quickly unwrapped the bar and bit into the chocolate. It tasted of milk chocolate… tinged with nostalgia and happy memories. That was the only description available for the flavor. When they swallowed the chocolate, they discovered to their surprise that they didn’t actually feel it going down the throat. It was as if the chocolate vanished upon being eaten. They put that down to magic and decided not to really worry about it.

“We’ll first begin with that mountain to the distance over there.” Chara sat down on a chair in the backyard and began listening intently. They still couldn’t fathom why nobody noticed the flamboyant shouting man on their house’s roof. Probably had to do something with magic, they supposed.

He pointed towards the mountain towering over the village. “Behold!” he said. “That is a mountain. Mount Ebott, in fact. History behind the mountain is actually pretty interesting, but who the hell cares about that boring stuff about mage-monster war anyways. Let’s get right towards what makes it an interesting study subject.”

Chara was actually pretty interested in learning about the mage-monster war, but they decided to humor the Smiling Man for that day. “First rule that you should remember, as a mage, is that space, time, and physics in general are arbitrary qualities and laws imposed upon the universe by beings who are great to you as you are great to a protozoa,” the smiling mage said. “There is nowhere on Earth that is demonstrated as well as Mountain of Ebott, and the underground beneath it.” 

“You’ve heard the legends too, right? That those who climb the mountain never return?” 

Chara shook their head. They, after all, had very little contact with the town in their time here, and their parents never really told them about any of the local legends. The mage’s smile fell for a second. “Well, shit… Hmm… Okay, so the legend goes that the mountain is cursed, and that those who climb up disappear to never return. It’s mostly bunch of rubbish, of course. I’ve climbed it countless times now, and I’m still here,” the Smiling Man chuckled.

“But it’s also true that few dozen people got horribly lost while climbing the mountain,” he continued. “Why, one of them got so lost that she ended up in Japan.” 

Chara laughed. The Smiling man didn’t. Eventually, the laughter died down to a nervous chuckle, and the mage continued. “There is something in the mountain, something absurdly powerful, that keeps the mountain in the borderland between what is Real and What is Not. As a result of this, the Laws of the physical realm as defined by the gods above fall apart around the mountain—including those of space. Mount Ebott exists in multiple locations all over the globe.”

Chara blinked. “How can a mountain exist in multiple locations at once? It’s there, I can see it. Are you saying that it also exists in Japan? That you’ll see the exact same mountain in other continents?” The mage shrugged. 

“Not exactly. How do I explain this… hmm.. the exact topology and geography of each iteration of Mount Ebott is different. In fact, they are all completely different mountains if you took the time to survey them. There are, however, two things that connect these different iterations into a single… ‘idea,’ let’s say. First is the Legend: that seven archmages in ancient history trapped the fey creatures within the earth below the mountain… and that those who climb it is taken away by the vengeful monsters who still haunt it. The second, of course, is the fact that something really fucked with the fabric of time and space around the mountain, causing them all to be connected together.” 

“So, when you mentioned that a person actually disappeared and appeared in Japan while exploring Mount Ebott…”

“Yeah, I’m talking about the fact that there is a good chance that if you get lost in the Mountain… or if you know where to look, that you may go up one iteration of the Mountain and come down a completely different one thousands of miles away,” the Smiling Man said. “Fortunately, or unfortunately, none of these shortcuts seem to lead to outer space. But I digress—the point is that the Mountain has thus been historically important to persecuted and desperate mages around the world. It is, to those in the know, considered a safe haven—a place where the witch hunters cannot track them through.” 

Chara thought about this for a moment. “Do you know,” they asked. “Why the archmages trapped the monsters down there?” 

The Smiling Man grimaced. “Please don’t ask me that,” he said. A strange response, but Chara didn’t think there was any particular reason to pursue this line of question. 

"Important thing to take from this lesson, however, is that laws of physics and scientific reality can be bent, or straight up broken, by a powerful enough will or force, okay?" he said, waving his hand. Chara nodded and ruminated on what the mage had told them. 

“You said that desperate mages climbed up those mountains,” Chara said. “And you said you climbed the mountain too. Were yo-“

“Oh my, look at the time,” the Smiling Man said. “Forget boring lore. Let’s study battle magic. Wanna make bad people go insane?” Chara did as they were told and forgot about the boring lore almost immediately, nodding quickly at the mage. The mage giggled and summoned a book to his hand. “First, we will learn about the nature of souls and how to take advantage…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Must we bother with ancient history?  
>  _yes_


	3. (Mis)communication kills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's the Smiling Man?  
>  _Someone who helped you once, in another life perhaps._

“You learn quickly, my apprentice,” the Smiling Man said from his makeshift perch atop the roof, looking down upon Chara in some weird black robe he was wearing for the day. He looked like Emperor Palpatine or something from Star Wars, Chara thought. The dork. “No, but seriously,” the Smiling Man said. A blink of an eye and the robes were gone, replaced by his usual formal wear and a hat. “It took me months to learn that spell, and you mastered it in a week! It’s seriously impressive.”

Chara looked proudly at the stick they were holding, now infused with magic and glowing red like some kind of an energy sword. They supposed that’s why the Smiling Man was acting like Emperor Palpatine. Child smiled back at the Smiling Man. In the months since they first met, the two of them had become fast friends. They told him stories of his many close escapes from the witch hunters after his life (Chara was mostly interested in the description of the witch hunters’ determination to catch him than the mage’s guile, but they didn’t say that out loudly). He smiled and laughed and played pretend swordfights with the child when their parents were away on some ‘business.’ Most importantly, he brought them truly magically delicious candy, always tinged with that hint of happy memories and nostalgia. Nowadays since they couldn’t see the kids outside playing anymore and TV broadcasts were cut off after a report of some kind of social unrest in London just a week or so ago, the visits from the Smiling Man was the only thing that the child could do to entertain themself now. The Smiling Man beamed from his perch. “Buuut I need you to promise me something, kid,” he said.

“What is it?” the child asked. They felt as if they could take on the world with this much power flowing through their veins. “Never,” the Smiling Man said. “Promise me that you will never use this power against ordinary people or those weaker than you,” he finished. The world actually appeared to grow darker as the Smiling Man continued. He tipped his hat forward so that Chara could no longer see his piercing and mirthful blue eyes, just a smile that looked more like a menacing smirk every second. “Or I will personally hunt you down and end you,” the Smiling Man said. 

The world suddenly turned bright again. “But you are a good kid,” Smiling Man said, revealing his joyful eyes again. “I’m sure you wouldn’t do such a thing. Let’s leave things for tomorrow because I can sense your parents coming home now. Adieu!” He cackled and clicked his heels together, disappearing into the thin air.

Chara felt every tension in their legs release and fell to their knees, gasping. What even was that? They felt as if they couldn’t breathe. There were so much… intent behind those words. Chara knew for sure that the Smiling Man meant every word of that threat. They didn’t know how long they were out there in the yard. 

“Chara? Are you out here?” a voice called out eventually. “I told you that you can’t go outside! It’s too dang-“ their mother’s voice cut off suddenly into a gasp. Chara looked down to realize they had been channeling their magic into the wooden stick in their panic, causing it to glow brightly. 

“Who….” The mother said, shaking with rage. “Who the hell taught you that, you little shite!” she screeched and held out a hand. Blue glow surrounded Chara’s arm and yanked them towards the patio door, flying through the air roughly. The stick went tumbling out from the child’s grip and embdedded itself like a sword into the earth—the red glow swiftly fading afterwards. Chara themself was thrown roughly to the wooden floor inside the house. The mother slammed the back door shut angrily. “Tell me who taught you that, now! That knowledge wasn’t for you to learn!” she screamed. 

Mages. The fact that their mother was a mage was the only thing that came to Chara’s mind at the moment. Is that why they were constantly on the run? Avoiding the inquisitors and the witch hunters? The mother now lifted them off their feet with magic. “Tell me!” She screamed again.

“I… I taught it to myself, mother!” Chara stammered out. They still remembered their promise to the Smiling Man—the only one in the world willing to be a friend with them, even if he had just threatened to kill them. “Nobody taught me! I didn’t even know you are a mage!”

“Stop lying to me!” the mother said. “There’s no way you could’ve learned that—“ she point towards the embedded stick outside. “By yourself! Who’s your master? Why did he teach you! When did he see you?” 

Chara felt an unseen force begin crushing their ribs and arms. “Tell me. Now.”

The pain was unbearable. Chara groaned and winced for as long as they were able, seeing stars behind their eyes. “I… I… I…” they stammered. They broke. “He was a Smiling Man! I don’t know his name!” 

The pressure around their ribs stopped and Chara dropped onto the floor, breathless. They glanced upwards to see their mother’s shocked and terrified expression, her mouth frozen in a little o. “W…When…?” the mother said. “Since when did you see…” 

“3 months ago,” Chara said. They had never seen their mother look so scared before. Usually the range of emotions they expressed were the rare and fleeting moment of motherly kindness followed by long period of intense rage and wariness towards the child. They figured that now that the truth was out that there was no point in continuing to hold back information. “But he’s a mage too! Mages help each other, right? He’s really nice, mother, I’m sure that—“

“We have to leave,” the mother was pale faced. “We have to leave, right now. Chara, go pack your bag.” 

“But moth-“

“This isn’t up for debate, young lady!” the mother screeched at them. Chara winced at the label. “Go pack your bag and wait for your father to come back home. You are in so much trouble, you little demon. I gave you simple instructions to not leave the house and not talk to anyone, and you broke them all.”

“I don’t want to leave!” Chara screamed. “He’s my friend!” 

“He’s not your friend!” Mother screamed back. “You don’t even know his name!”

Chara blinked. This was true—in the three months that they spent together, the Smiling Man always changed subject whenever they asked for his name. Still, he was the only one who ever acted as if he genuinely cared for them all the time. Aside from that one threat he made, he had always been pleasant to be around and genuinely seemed to be proud of their accomplishments with magic in that short time they spent together learning. They weren’t about to give that up. They didn’t want to let go of such a person.

“Chara! Stop you little imp!” their mother screamed as they bolted towards the front door. They felt unseen hands reach for them, but they were ready this time. The Smiling Man had taught them well. A flash of red deflected the hands away and the blue glow around the child faded quickly. They burst through the door and ran, leaving behind their screaming mother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Chara didn’t know how long they were running for, but when they stopped, they were at an unfamiliar street at an unfamiliar part of the town. There are many people walking around, going home from their workplace or taking a late stroll in the dusk, but none of them seem particularly concerned for the breathless child. 

They didn’t know where to go. They didn’t know where the Smiling Man lived nor his name. They had no idea where to seek him out to find help. “Oi, you there!” a loud voice shakes them out of their thoughts. They look around to see a constable walking towards them. 

“What are you doing without your parents, kid?” the constable asks, a concerned expression on his face. “It’s getting dark, you know. Streets are no place for-oh my word what happened to your eyes?” 

Chara tilted their head. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” they said. “Oh, umm… my parents said not to talk with strangers….” They said, averting their eyes. The constable appeared to be torn between fear of…whatever was wrong with Chara’s eyes and his professional duty to help children. “Well, uh,” the constable said, nervously. “I’m not a stranger. I’m a constable. I’m supposed to help kids like you.”

A 10 year old rarely had the mental fortitude to resist when an authoritarian adult said they were incorrect. Chara was no exception. “Oh, okay,” they said, turning to look at the constable. They remembered what the Smiling Man told them and flashed their biggest possible smile at the constable, who could now not decide whether to be more relaxed by the now smiling child, or run away in terror. “That’s nice… umm.. eyes you got there, kid,” the constable said, sweat beading on his face. “Very… umm… red. You’ve been sleeping okay?”

“What? Oh yes, I’m fine,” Chara said. “Have you seen a guy in a formal wear and a hat around here? Almost always smiling? Blue eyes?”

“Can’t say he rings a bell, kid,” the constable said, looking around. “What are you doing outside this evening on your lonesome?”

“I… uhhh…” Chara mumbled. “I ran from home,” they finally admitted, kicking a loose pebble on the street. “My parents were mages.”

“Mages, huh?” the constable said. “Where do they live?”

“I… don’t remember,” the child said. “I don’t usually go outside my house…”

“You don’t?”

“I’m not allowed to,” Chara corrected themself.

The constable finally appeared to have decided that pity was the right emotion to take at this point. “Well, you could come with me for now,” the constable said, offering a hand that Chara cautiously took. “Dr. Roosevelt is in town right now,” he said. “I’m going to take you to her.”

“Dr. Roosevelt?” Chara said, suddenly alarmed. “The witch hunter?” 

“The one and only,” the Constable said, chuckling. “Got a special program for kids of mages like you. She’s in town tracking down some really bad mage or something but …”

Chara did not want to go to Dr. Roosevelt nor were they interested in whatever this “Special Program” could be. They just wanted to find the Smiling Man. “But I can’t go to Dr. Roosevelt!” they shouted. “I have to find the Smiling Man!” 

“I’m sure they have a lot of smiling people at the school,” the constable said, dragging Chara forward. “Who the hell is this Smiling Man anyways?” 

“He’s a mage!” Chara said in panic. “He’s my friend! He’s been…” the constable’s pity turns to fear almost instantly. “A mage? Has he been teaching you magic?” He lets go of the hand. People walking by in the street stop to look, suddenly appearing alarmed. 

“Ye… yes?” Chara admitted. “He’s a good mage though! He’s been nothing but…” 

“A mage!” a person overhearing the conversation shouts. “We have a witch here!” 

“Somebody call Dr. Roosevelt!” Chara’s eyes widen at the sudden change in atmosphere. One by one, the bystanders join the clamorous and jeering crowd as the news passes through the town like a shock to the system. The constable makes no motion to stop the crowd as they quickly surround the fearful child. “Wha… what’s going on?” Chara stammers. “I didn’t hurt anyone!”

A blow to the back of the head wipes the rest of the thought, and consciousness, from Chara’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's a dick though.  
>  _Well I never said he was nice._


	4. The approach of a coming storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two figures stood around a map of a mountain. The lighting was dark, and false stars glittered above mockingly. One figure aimlessly stabbed the map with a dagger. It's no use, they said. There's no escape from here. The archmages were through. There's no iteration of the mountain that will allow for escape without the seven human souls. 
> 
> The other figure grimaced, as was their usual expression. I have a plan, they said. But it's not going to be pretty.

The child wakes up to the screams. Their eye opens, but the world is dark. There is a hood around their head, and they are being dragged roughly among the cheering and screams of an ecstatic crowd. Their entire body feels bruised. 

“Stop the execution!” the crowd is chanting now. “Dr. Roosevelt! Please, stop! We found her! We found the witch you were looking for! We found her! We have her! Oh, yes, we have her!” 

Execution?!

An authoritarian, female voice booms somewhere ahead of them. “Thank you! Bring her forth!” Someone yanks the hood off of Chara’s head and pushes them forward to the ground. Through blurred eyes, Chara saw a middle aged woman in military armor, flanked by two assault rifle toting bodyguards. In the background was a group of women under guard by other troops, looking wildly at Dr. Roosevelt and Chara with fear and, disturbingly, hope. 

There was a thick layer of ash upon the street, but Chara did not know where they had come from. 

Chara trembled in fear as the witch hunter, Dr. Roosevelt, smiled and put her hand up in a resassuring gesture to the crowd. “My friends, let us calm down for a moment,” she said soothingly, her voice hypnotic and pleasing to the ears. Chara felt themself relax despite the situation. “ How do we know that this child is a witch?”

“She admitted it!” Somebody in the crowd shouted. “It’s true! I was there!” another voice joined in. “She said she’s been taught magic by someone!” 

“Free the others!” the crowd chanted. “We have finally found the one you seek, Dr. Roosevelt!” the crowd demanded. Chara briefly wondered how the witch hunter managed to control an entire town if they were so unhappy about the hunter executing innocent women.

The answer to that question appeared and all heads turned to face the gasmasked figure.

The figure in the gas mask towered tall, long black trenchcoat stopping just short of its knees. The crowd grew silent as it approached. It was truly an it. No human eye among the entirety of the crowd saw the being as human. They stared upon the approaching figure, eyes locked in a mix of fear and awe, with the same reverence usually reserved for the approaching cone of a tornado. 

Yet, somehow, the witch hunter had managed to tame such a being. 

Dr. Roosevelt laughed. “Very, very good, my friends! You have truly outdone yourselves! You may all be proud of yourselves for your part in the Great Work!” she said cheerfully. The crowd murmured in both fear and false cheer. “Now, young…ahh… child,” the witch hunter said, turning her attention to the trembling kid. “You have been accused of witchcraft of the highest degree. How do you plead?” 

“Please!” Chara managed to stammer out. “I haven’t hurt anyone!”

“Irrelevant,” the witch hunter snapped. “You stand accused of witchcraft, and you don’t even try to defend yourself by claiming that you aren’t a witch. I see that as an admission of guilt,” the crowd began to cheer. “Well, even if you deny it, I see that half of the town is a witness against you.” 

“Wait, please!” Chara continued. “I could… I could help you! I always wanted to be a witch hunter! I could help you hunt down the bad witches?” 

Dr. Roosevelt looked rather amused. She strode forward to kneel in front of Chara, so that they were at eye level. “Bad. Witches,” Dr. Roosevelt said quietly, rolling the words around her mouth. “Look at the square carefully and tell me what you see.” 

Chara did as they were told. Looking very carefully at mob behind them demanding their execution and immediate release of some others. They were being kept in check by the presence of the gasmasked Executioner, but also the soldiers who frequently pointed their rifles towards the more unruly individuals in front of the mob. Somewhere beyond in the town center were group of other women and children, tied down together in ropes and guarded by troops. 

Dr. Roosevelt smiled.

“I literally just walked into this town with a bunch of paramilitary troops, rounded up anyone I thought was even remotely possible to being a witch, and then stuck them in the town square under armed surveillance just to prove a point that nobody could do a thing about it because I hold the power, the guns, and the magic. The world governments are currently too paralyzed to do anything, you see. And then you tell me you can help me hunt down… Bad. Witches. As if I’m some fucking good gal,” she was chuckling now. “Oh god, that’s just precious. It’s laughable. Unfortunately,” she shook her head. “I don’t want people who will help me kill bad witches. I want people who obey orders, like my dear friend in the gas mask here,” she swiped the dust off her leggings as she rose to her full height. 

She turned and walked away from the speechless child, patting the figure in the gasmask in the back as she did so. “Please remove this child from my sight,” she said.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the gasmasked executioner lumbered forward. Chara closed their eyes, waiting for the moment for the Executioner to grab them and drag them towards their inevitable fate.

That moment never came.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” the hunter’s exasperated voice urged Chara to open their eyes. The Executioner was right in front of them, but they had stopped just short of grabbing onto the child’s arm. Even with the gas mask on, Chara knew that the figure inside had locked their eyes with them. Even through the plastic, reflective windows of the mask, Chara and everyone else present could feel the fear welling up inside the being in the gasmask and the trenchcoat. 

Behind it, Dr. Roosevelt was turning purple. “I gave you an order, Gasmask, have you already forgotten about the Cause? Obey me now and kill them!” the hunter shouted. The Executioner refused, going as far as stumbling backwards in terror from the meek and trembling child. In a panic, the Executioner ran as far as it could away from Chara. 

“To the devil with you then!” the hunter shouted after the fleeing figure of the tamed mage. “Guards!” She barked at the paramilitary man, who immediately snapped to attention. “Seize the child!” 

The soldiers looked at each other briefly, everyone wondering about the strange reaction of the Gasmasked mage. “There’s nothing to worry, it’s just a child,” Dr. Roosevelt added. The soldiers, as well as the crowd who had been watching the whole affair unfold with growing unease, suddenly felt reassured for reasons they couldn’t exactly explain. The crowd cheered again, softer this time, as the soldiers grabbed Chara’s arms and began dragging them towards Dr. Roosevelt. “Let me go!” Chara cried out.

“I SAID LET ME GO!” 

The streets explode in red. 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Dr. Roosevelt groaned as she crawled out from beneath the unconscious body of her soldiers. She hadn’t expected a child to have such potent powers. No wonder the Executioner looked so terrified. Hell, even she was scared when she looked into the child’s red eye and saw… something that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Dr. Roosevelt had seen many red-eyed children in her time hunting the magically inclined for the sake of the Cause, but nothing quite like what she had just witnessed. It was as if she had seen death itself, the destruction of the universe, swirling inside the eyes of a child. 

There was no doubt in her mind now. The kid was definitely the target of the prophecies. Nobody else could have such an instinctive grasp of magic, despite being obviously rather poorly trained. She saw the power surge from the child moments they struck out first at the guards and then towards the frenzied mobs.

Luckily, the hunter had years of experience and instincts to know when a hunt was about to go tits up, and had ducked in cover behind one of her guards on the first sign of trouble. It did absolutely nothing to shield her from the blast of magic, but really, convincing yourself that you were safer because you took action against the coming magical assault was far more important then any shielding anyways. 

She surveyed the scene before her. The child was nowhere to be seen, but nobody actually appeared to be dead. That’s good, she supposed. 

In a single instant, the witch child had incapacitated an entire town full of humans. It would have taken out Dr. Roosevelt too, but then again, she wasn’t exactly a normal human. This child truly must have a wonderful and powerful soul. 

Dr. Roosevelt laughed with delight. Finally, the Great Work was nearing its end. She was glad that she had followed the prophecies towards this shoddy town in the middle of nowhere. Oh, the others had been skeptical… but that was beside the point now. 

She took out her phone and called a number. The hunt continued. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Chara did not know how exactly they managed to pull that off nor did they know why the two apparently ‘tamed’ mages turned and fled on the first sight of them, but they weren’t complaining. 

Returning to home was out of the question. The normal humans of the city proved that they could not be trusted at all. The Smiling Man was still nowhere to be found. They were running with a purpose now, after all, with a destination in mind. The Smiling Man’s lessons still was a deep part of them after all.

And as he said once, Mount Ebott was the destination of desperate mages fleeing from witch hunters…

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Chara’s mother moaned in agony as she crawled away from her home as it burned to the ground behind her. The cyan spike of light stuck in her leg continued to burn, resistant to all attempts to remove it. Chara’s father stayed behind there to delay the assailant, but she knew it was only just that—delaying the inevitable. 

Sure enough, the figure in a suit and a fedora emerged from the burning wreck of her home, flames parting way for the man as he walked towards her with a pistol in his hand. It was the Smiling Man, the unstoppable terror from the American cabal that was stalking her family for years now. His blue eyes glowed brightly with power as he made his way towards the mother.

“You shouldn’t have stolen from us,” the Smiling Man said as he sat besides the prone mother; gun still pointed at her head. She spat at him. The spittle never even reached the Smiling Man’s face. They took a blue hue mid air and were redirected away into the darkness. “You are all fucking insane, you know that?” she rasped. 

“Honestly,” the Smiling Man said. “I’m not sure why you even thought that stealing that kid from the cabal was a good idea if you were not even going to take care of them well.”

“Because she’s mine!” Chara’s mother shouted at him. “They,” the Smiling Man corrected. “Shut up! She’s still my child! You aren’t taking her from me!” The Smiling Man sighed. “We gave you protection,” the Smiling Man said. “We looked over your… indiscretions and crimes in exchange for the information you dug up through your burglaries. We cleaned up after you so that you don’t go to bloody jail, and taught you magic to avoid the eyes of the layabout hunters,” the Smiling Man ranted.

“And when the time came for you to keep your end of the bargain—to hand us the child that you obviously couldn’t raise yourself… you refused.”

“I know…” Chara’s mother coughed out. “I know what you are planning to do with her. You are going to kill her, aren’t you?”

“I won’t deny it, I was,” the Smiling Man said, chuckling. “But, uh I decided that I don’t care about that stuff anymore,” he continued. “You know, this never leaves this conversation, but I think you did good on taking the kid away and running. I guess you did love them in some way,” he shrugged. 

“Love is always such a complicated, ugly thing. I never really understood it myself. I guess it’s more of an obsession for you than really affection now, is it? You just wanted to own them. You just wanted to have someone completely indebted to you,” the Smiling Man accused. His phone began to ring. The Smiling Man rolled his eyes. “Sorry to cut this short, lady, but I really have to take that call. I’ll make sure the kid lives at least,” he said. 

Chara’s mother yelled out in pain as a bullet slammed into her chest at point blank range. Last thing she saw before everything turned dark was the Smiling Man answering a smartphone as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memories that does not belong to you continue to flood your mind. 
> 
> This is insane! A memory calls out. There has to be a better way!
> 
> We both know that this is the only way, the other rebuts. None of us are willing to kill father or mother to escape this place. It'll have to be one of us. We have the research of the Royal Scientist to help us. This will work. I guarantee it. 
> 
> We'll be murderers, a weak voice responds. The other tsks. Somebody has to die to break the barrier, they say. The archmages believed that the monsters would not harm humans, even if it is to save their race from imprisonment. You are just proving their method of control effective by expressing unwillingness to do what must be done. I volunteer for the first soul needed. You will take my soul, and then you will leave the barrier to break it from the outside.
> 
> No, I refuse.
> 
> Do you have any better idea? 
> 
> A moment of silence. We'll draw straws, a third voice says.


	5. Sunk Cost Fallacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lone figure in a scientist garb enters the CORE. Others would throw a fit if they knew what the figure planned on doing. What they didn't know wouldn't kill them, of course. It would be dangerous of course, but it's not as if they haven't risked their life before. 
> 
> _Too risky,_ a somewhat saner part of their mind suggests. _You have to stop this._ The figure dismisses these thoughts. They had already sacrificed so much. They had already destroyed so much. To turn their back now on everything they had accomplished would be... unthinkable. 
> 
> The figure smiles as the modified CORE comes to life around them. _Stop this obsession of yours_ , but the figure is no longer listening. They raise their hands, holding up a baton as if they were a conductor orchestrating a symphony, and the CORE responds with blinding flashes of light as the veil of reality crumbles.

As Chara ran up the mountain, they tried desperately to find a shortcut that will lead to… well, anywhere away from the mad woman in the town. They did not know where they were in the mountain—they had ran off what little path remained and into the overgrowth in the mountain. Branches, bushes, and vines slashed and grabbed at them as they hacked and shoved their way through, willing their body with determination to shield them from harm. It did not seem particularly effective, and they were soon covered with scratches and cuts. 

They had no idea how one was supposed to find a shortcut in the mountain that lead to, say, China, but the Smiling Man did mention that you had to be lost. They considered themselves well and truly lost now. Still, they were glad when they came upon a clearing. 

Their heart nearly soared out of their chest once they realized that a familiar figure was there, waiting for them: a grey-suited figure with a fedora and a permanent smile affixed to his face. They ran forwards, blabbering nonsense and full of hope that their torment was now coming to an end. The smiling mage offered them a sad smile and a point of a gun. “Sorry kid,” he said. 

Gunshot echoed around the mountain.

Chara stumbled backwards, shivering, eyes open and mouths hanging loose in disbelief. The bullet had whizzed by their ear, too close for comfort. The sound of the gunshot ringed around their head. The Smiling Man continued to give them a smile tinged in sadness. Wind blew without concern for the conflict between the two humans. “I know that look,” the Smiling Man said. “That’s the face of somebody who wants answers. Ten minutes.” 

“If you manage to hide from me for ten minutes, I’ll explain to you the reasons. You’ll still die, but at least you’ll die with the truth. Isn’t that what we can only hope for these days?” His eyes finally made contact with that of the child, putting his pity and guilt-filled eyes against theirs, which did not need to be graced with a description. “Time’s ticking, kid. I suggest you run.”

Chara ran again.  
………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Chara’s legs burned and quivered, threatening to give out any second. Their eyes were puffy and tearful. Why? Why did their one hope for safety betrayed them at their time of need? They tripped, tumbling down a slope of a hill that they failed to recognize. They almost screamed in pain—but managed to stop themselves before they made any noise that would’ve given away their position to the Smiling Man. 

That was when they noticed the cave. For second time that day, the child felt hope returning to their mind. Perhaps, if they simply hid in the cave until the Smiling Man left, they would have a chance to survive this whole affair?

It was a long shot, but at least it was better than none. The Smiling Man was an adult and, by his own admission, had climbed the mountain countless times now. He probably knew these woods like the back of his hand. They ran into the cave hoping to find…

Inside the cave was the Smiling Man, standing as if he had always known that Chara would run inside the cave and simply had been waiting for them to arrive all this time. Behind him stood the gasmasked Executioner, still exuding its otherworldly and oppressive presence as it went through the motion of… of… reheating pot of tea on a portable gas burner. 

“Wowwee, that was like, 8 minutes. I guess you only get half of the truth now,” the Smiling Man said. “Coffee? Tea? Well, it doesn’t matter. Come here and sit. Have a cup of tea.” 

Chara dropped to their knees. It was over. They never had the chance to begin with. Wind howled through the narrow cavern passages. Behind the gas masked being busy with fumbling with the portable gas stove and a patiently smiling mage (now pointing a pistol directly at the child’s face) was a large hole leading to god knows where. Chara guessed that they planned on dumping their body after they… did whatever the fuck they were planning on doing with them. 

“Well, don’t just sit there,” the Smiling Man said jovially as if he totally was not planning on the murder of a defenseless child. “Come and sit! I have some sweets if you want them.”

Chara decided that, if they were going to die, that they might as well make themself more comfortable. They got up on their shaking legs and half-dragged themself towards the two figures. The gas masked figure appeared to have mostly overcome their fear of the child, and impassively handed them a cup full of tea. Golden flower. At least their killers appeared to have good taste in tea. “Soooo, half of the truth,” the Smiling Man said, sipping his cup of tea. 

The gas masked Executioner put a straw through their filter and began to suck the tea through it. 

Both the Smiling Man and Chara stopped momentarily, distracted by the spectacle. The executioner did not seem to notice. “Umm, sorry, what were we doing again?” the smiling mage said. “Oh right, why you have to die.”

“Could you please just tell me why you are working with or for Dr. Roosevelt?” Chara blurted out. “How did she strongarm people like you?” 

The Smiling Man chuckled. Gasmask stopped drinking its tea to answer. “We have free will, if that is what you are asking,” its voice was almost mechanical and without any inflection. “Ultimately we believe that we are partly responsible for what turned the Doctor into her current iteration, and thought that it was our responsibility to make sure that she succeeds, despite her unusual methods.” 

“You say that in the past tense.” 

“We always believed that her heart was in the right place,” the Smiling Man responded. “We believed, for many years, that the end justified whatever means that we took to achieve them. Now? I’m not sure? And let’s leave it at that,” the Smiling Man finished. Gasmask continued drinking from its cup of tea through the straw, much to the distraction of the Smiling Man and Chara. 

“So,” Chara said. “Why must I die?” 

“Love,” the Smiling Man said. “Think about any problem or mystery in the universe and you’ll always find that love has something to do with it.” 

“Are you saying that you and Dr. Roosevelt want to kill me because you love me too much?”

“No, that would be fucked up, even for us,” the Smiling Man responded. “No, we love something else and our cause greatly. Greatly enough to murder children for it. Great enough to organize atrocities for it and order the death of thousands. Great enough to throw several entire countries down the drain in the name of hate and destruction. All because we. Fucking. Can’t. Let. Go. And stop loving the things I’m pretty confident no longer loves us back,” the Smiling Man tossed his cup into the hole. Gasmask patted his shoulders. “But yeah, that’s the reason. We love something and we would kill for it. One of us died for it. I guess it’s… a sunk cost fallacy at this point.” Smiling Man said, smiling weakly. “Honestly I can’t bring myself to care for it anymore.”

“But yet,” Chara said, confused. “I still have to die?”

“Oh yes,” the Smiling Man said. “A job is a job and we are getting paid decent salaries, you know? It’s honestly a bit of mercy at this point. Dr. Roosevelt is aware of you now. She’ll… never let go. She’s not the kind of person who does. She’ll chase you to Antarctica if that’s what’s necessary. We can at least offer a painless death, rather than living in fear for the rest of your life.” 

“You are fucked up, you know that?" Chara spat. "Dying is painful." The Smiling Man laughed sadly.

“Well, you’ve been dying for the last couple of minutes and you still haven’t noticed, so I think we are good on that front,” the Smiling Man said. “I poisoned the tea,” the Gasmask added. 

Chara looked down at their half empty cup of tea. Now that it mentioned that, they were feeling a lot sleepier than normal. “Oh,” they said. “Well, screw you then.”

The Smiling Man laughed. “Just go to sleep kid. You’ll wake up in a better place, I guarantee it.” 

Chara managed to flip him the bird as they toppled forward. The Smiling Man let out a sigh before removing a closed envelope from his pocket and sliding it into Chara’s. 

“Dr. Roosevelt won’t forgive you for this, you know?” Gasmask warned. The Smiling Man shrugged. “Just throw the kid into the damn hole,” he said. “Yes, Mr. Loveless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The figure is laughing as they wave their baton and hands. Pieces of the CORE fall apart and vanish into the failing reality. The figure would be dancing to the triumphant tune of the reality bending to the whims of the figure, but their legs have turned to glass and have shattered long time ago since the beginning of their work. Somebody bangs on the doors leading into the CORE, but the figure pays it no attention. They are simple distractions, nothing more. They must be focused entirely on their work. The universe is their audience, the CORE their orchestra. The CODE of the world is their sheet music. 
> 
> Do you see this? The laughing figure gloats to the saner part of their mind. I DID IT! All our hopes and dreams, they can finally come true at last! But the saner part of their mind does not respond. It has already shattered away into the nothingness. The figure forgets about it all soon afterwards. 
> 
> The figure twirls and twists the baton continuously as more pieces of themself and the CORE falls away into nothingness that is beyond reality. This was their Pièce de résistance, their final act in life. Even if everything they studied were destroyed... even if everyone they had ever loved melted away into the folds of reality, even if this TOO would end in failure, they were sure that it was all finally, finally over. 
> 
> They smile as the last coherent thought tumbles away into the dark and their body shatters. The CORE grows dark once more.
> 
> Door opens.
> 
> Two skeletal figures in scientist's garb enters. "That's weird," the tall figure with a disfigured skull says. 
> 
> "what is?" the shorter one replies.
> 
> "I couldn't get the doors to work for a minute there, and I don't know why," the tall, disfigured skeleton says. "We'll have to call a technician to fix it."
> 
> "damn, and we are behind schedule with building the core already," the shorter skeleton says. Tears drip from his eye sockets.
> 
> "Why are you crying?" the tall skeleton asks. The shorter skeleton wipes away the tears. "i... i dunnow. just felt sad all of a sudden."
> 
> "Probably just overworked," the tall skeleton says. "You should sleep more often, Sans. I worry about you sometimes"
> 
> "yeah, probably," Sans says. The two skeletons leave the empty and half-built CORE behind.


End file.
